Never Hold Tight
by AuroraExecution
Summary: He loved her too much to say he would never let her go, because he wanted to ease her pain. But will Celeborn be able to deal with the consequences of his sacrifice? Reviews would be appreciated.


**Disclaimer:** "Lord of the Rings" and "mine" will never be in the same sentence, except when I am doing my fanfiction disclaimers about how it is completely and utterly _not_ mine.

**Notes: **Ok, there are several things I must say here. First of all, this fic was inspired by something else I read, so the idea is kind of similar to the other fic. However, I did not copy the other fic (it was from another fandom, for one thing), I simply used some of its basic (and I mean VERY basic) premise. Just the whole letting go of love idea, which I suppose is used by a lot of people anyway.

Also, I borrowed the title and the ending quote from a song called "Send Me A Song" by Celtic Woman. The original lyrics was "Love must never hold, never hold tight but let go." So I used some parts. Artistic license and whatnot. At any rate, the bits from the song are not mine.

Next, I KNOW this is NOT the most likely scenario of what happened between Galadriel and Celeborn. I KNOW that the forgetting/healing deal in Valinor probably doesn't work the way I portrayed it, if you go by the best interpretation of Tolkien. And I KNOW that occasionally Galadriel falls a bit out of character, because I had trouble writing this emotional stuff, and I'm going to say that this is my personal interpretation, so it will probably not be exactly what is the most canon ever. However. This is a fanfiction. So I have some free reign over how I want things to work. If you really feel like it's not close enough to what you believe is canon, then just think of it as AU, 'kay?

So, finally, please do tell me what you think of it.

* * *

Never Hold Tight

Sometimes he wondered if he was being incredibly selfish.

"Leave with me," she had asked him, almost begging by the last time.

"I can not," he had replied, again. She flushed, trying to suppress the pain that was surfacing as water in her eyes. "One day, perhaps…" he added, always, unsure if he was placating her or himself.

It was not that he did not love her. He loved her so much that there was very little he could employ to describe his love that would not sound incredibly false and overused. But love her he did, and that was not the problem.

Duty kept him. Duty, and something else. A sense of longing, perhaps, to cherish what he had spent so many years protecting. To try to save it from falling into ruin, even if he knew he would inevitably fail.

Duty kept him, and memories, but they were not greater than she, save in one thing. At any time he wanted, he could take the choice to leave these shores and sail after her. But in the instant the ship left the shore, he would never be able to return again. After so many ages, and with the sea-longing worn away in him, he still wanted to linger here, under the fading trees.

He often wondered why. The lands that had once belonged under the power of the elves were dying, and he was obviously not needed anymore. He could leave now, and find bliss with her in a home he barely remembered, in lands he no longer recognized. Something in him was simply reluctant to give up the beautiful, imperfect world he knew now.

So she had boarded the ship alone, crying outwardly for the first time in an age. He had spent the whole process trying to smooth away the lines in his forehead, not wanting her to see how much it broke him, too. Not wanting her to know about the tears that could not help falling when he lifted his hand in their last goodbye.

And suddenly, she was gone. They had lived side-by-side for as long as ages had existed, and the adjustment after her departure was not one he wanted to ever repeat. What he regretted most was the conversation that marked the end of their lives together. They had parted in mind before she had ever traveled to the Havens.

There had been quiet for a long while after the last time she had asked him to accompany her. Quiet, in this case, signified unbearable silence that constructed high walls and seemed impossible to break. He sounded peculiar when he finally spoke, but he _had_ to shatter that eerie silence that filled with her plea. "I love you," he said. They both knew it was his apology for refusing her request. At the same time, she also knew he meant it.

"I know," was all she could reply. Another silence permeated. It seemed much too loud and large, this silence, like a warrior's cloak on a child. This time, she took the initiative. "Will you come?"

He thought of many answers to this question, but ultimately, none of them sufficed. He did not want to lie, but at the same time, he could not let himself hurt her more. "Perhaps," he told her, knowing it was a bland, unloving, safe answer that fooled neither of them.

"You're not planning on following me, are you?" she demanded, reproach barely showing in her eyes. The tears were enough.

"I can't say," he answered, "Times will change. One day I will be ready for this, but not today. Not _now_."

"You must. One day. No matter how many ages pass. You and I will _always_ be one." She took his hand as if she had not been his wife from before Men walked the earth, and kissed it like a shy girl. He was silent for several moments, composing himself for what came next.

"If…if for some reason I do not come…"

"_No_," she hissed.

"…please forget me. Let them heal you in the Undying Lands. Let them take away what hurts you."

"You could never hurt me—"

She had to try, even knowing it was a lie.

"I am hurting you right now, and we both know it. I want to feel that you are safe and happy there, and if…if I die here, for any reason at all, please forget who I am."

"I want to remember."

"What use is your memory of me if it only troubles you? I, who could not take away your burdens, who could not understand your pain, who abandoned you at the end and could not even promise to follow. I, who never gave you the love that you needed, and who is selfish…_selfish_, dearest, so that I do not follow you because of my own selfish desires—because I can not even overcome myself. You deserve more than to wait for such a one as I."

Suddenly, her arms were gripping him so tightly he could barely breathe, and she was sobbing furiously into his shoulder. "But it wasn't like that," she protested, her speech distorted from the tears, "You were always more than worth my love."

"I wish it were true, dearest."

"It _is_. You didn't lie to me on our wedding day. I _know_ you didn't." He tried to speak, but was cut off. "Why are you doing this, Celeborn?" she asked, "I love you. Don't you see that? I _love_ you."

_No_, he thought silently. _You idealize me too much._ "One day," he said gently, hoping she would listen to his words, "you will find that you do not need me anymore. And if that stops your pain, then it is worth everything to me. Dearest…" Something in saying that word stabbed at his heart. He would never call her anything again from now on, until the day he reached the Undying Lands.

"I love you," she repeated.

"I know, but—"

"I _love_ you."

"But—"

"I will wait because I love you." He refused to let himself shatter yet. That could wait until she was gone. He nodded.

"Don't confine yourself."

He had had his last private conversation with her, and the end of it had been something so distant and formal as "don't confine yourself." And now she _was_ gone. Part of him secretly hoped she would wait. But more than that, he understood how much pain the waiting would be, and wanted her to be spared from it.

* * *

When no more ships sailed from the east, her friends convinced her not to wait daily at the docks anymore. 

When an age passed and he did not come, she no longer asked the sailors for news of incoming ships.

When another age had gone by and he did not come, she stopped visiting the docks at all.

* * *

He hoped he would not regret leaving. After staying for so long, he had finally decided to come to her, because she had asked, and because he was sick and weary and wanted rest. He wanted to see her. 

His hand-built ship stumbled into the main harbor of the Undying Lands late one evening after sunset. The area was filled with empty ships, and a couple of sailors helped him to dock.

"Do any of you know where I might find the Lady Galadriel?" he queried of them as he left his ship.

"Lady Galadriel?" one asked. "She hasn't been around here for a long time. Ask in the city." He thanked them and continued on to find her.

It was nearly dawn when he arrived, on foot, at Tirion upon Tuna, a place that had once been so familiar. "Where might I find the Lady Galadriel?" He posed his question to some of the early merchants on the streets.

"Lady Galadriel?" a merchant demanded, looking confused.

"Lady Artanis, daughter of Finarfin," Celeborn explained.

"Oh…I'd forgotten her old name," said the merchant, "Yes, she lives in the palace with her father the king."

"Thank you." From the moment he had reached the empty harbor, he had started to understand his reality. He was not expecting much by the time he entered the palace. The king and queen and their court were up by now, and Celeborn walked unnoticed through the bustling halls.

His world focused on to her the moment he saw her again. Pushing his way past a slew of indignant servers and tittering nobles, he made his way to her side and touched her tentatively on the arm. _Expect nothing_, he told himself sternly as she turned.

"I…I don't believe I've met you," she said upon seeing him, her eyes darkening in confusion, as if wondering why he seemed vaguely familiar. He smiled, being careful not to let the expression crack.

"I just wanted to see you smile." She laughed.

"Oh, another one of _those_, hmm?" He knew what _those_ were, but did not correct her.

"I—you…I'm sorry." She laughed again, her voice full of delight and oblivion.

"For what?" His smile changed, this time becoming partly mysterious and partly bitter.

"I just…" _Love you_. But their connection was broken now, and only the slightest hint of his thoughts traveled to her. "No, it's better this way. It's better to be healed."

"Is something wrong?" He shook his head sadly.

"No. I just chose to let go." Before she could work out what he was trying to say, he had disappeared back into the crowd.

* * *

Some days he wondered if staying in Lorien had been worth the price, but he had known when he made the choice what the price would be. And yet he had chosen as such, and she had simply followed his advice. Still, he was selfish, after all, and he often wished he had not loved her so exquisitely that he had made himself tell her to let go.

Other days he swam in and out of his memories, savoring what was all but forgotten, watching her from a far distance, and knowing the choice he made was ultimately the correct one.

_

* * *

"Love must never hold tight but let go."_


End file.
